


Non Chick Flick Moments

by bibliophile_pixie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 06:02:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliophile_pixie/pseuds/bibliophile_pixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of fairly unrelated one shots, mainly Destiel centered. None are really meant to fit anywhere particular in the show's timeline. This latest addition includes a sleeping Castiel. I suppose it could be near the end of season five or maybe an AU after the season. Interpret it as you please.<br/>Written before any of season 6 canon was introduced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Communication Breakdown

"Hand me the 9/16 box end wrench."

"…."

"Come on, Cas! It's not that-"

"What're you hollerin' about this time, knuckle head?"

Dean rolled out from under the Impala and had to squint against the sun to see an amused Bobby fighting back a smirk, not the angel that had been there a few minutes ago. "When Sam said to find something besides huntin' that you could share with that nerd, I don't think he meant makin' Cas watch while you went all grease monkey."

Dean frowned and stood to face Bobby, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "And what exactly do you suggest, oh-so-wise-assed-one?" he exclaimed, reaching for his slightly warmed beer.

"Boy, you hooked up with an angel. Castiel has seen things beyond your comprehension..."

"I-"

"...things better than your best dream..."

"Yeah-"

"...and things worse than your worst nightmare."

"Bobby! I know! That's the problem!" Dean sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. "How the Hell can I relate to all that?" And Bobby understood the silent attachment, 'How do I compete with that?'

Scratching his beard thoughtfully, Bobby replied, "Well…I don't know, but good luck with it." Dean stared at the older man, stricken. Bobby chuckled. "Dean, I doubt there's ever been a couple like this in history, or anyone who can really give ya advice." Holding back laughter he went on, "You may have to actually share, maybe even have a few 'chick flick moments'."

"Thanks, Bobby, that was helpful," snapped Dean with a cock of the head. "Whatever, have you seen Cas? I'm guessin' he went back up to the house or something?"

"I honestly don't know," answered Bobby, "I just heard you and assumed." Dean leaned on the car, contemplating.

Finally he sighed again and said, "Well, I can't blame him. Should go find him, huh?" After a few more minutes of leaning and sipping he set the beer down and lifted the Impala's hood to tinker.

The older man huffed and made to leave, but stopped and turned back. "Boy, 'the key to change…is to let go of fear', so quit bein' an idgit and go talk to the guy before ya both start mopin' around like lovesick teenagers again." And with that he made his exit, leaving the younger man fuming, once again, with himself.


	2. Sick Again

The sun was high and the three (for lack of better phrasing) men riding in the black Impala coasting down the highway found the heat rather uncomfortable, but none more so than the one laying in the back seat with a fever and touch-and-go stomach. Sam had popped in Dean's favorite Led Zeppelin tape miles ago to appease him, though if he was completely honest with himself it was also to cover up the moans that always accompanied semi-ill Dean.

In fact, a fresh string of unintelligible groans could be heard from the back seat just then and Sam felt that spot where he always got stress headaches starting to stab at him.

"Sammy."

"Yeah, Dean?"

"As soon as I can do it without blowing chunks, I'm kicking your ass."

Sam sighed, "Look, for the hundredth time, I only ordered what you would have if you'd been there!"

After holding back a short wave of nausea, the food poisoned man replied, "That's bull and you know it. Lettuce? I don't take that crap on my burgers."

"Yeah?" snapped Sam. "How do you know it was the lettuce? It could've been under cooked meat or who knows what else. You keep blaming this on me like I planned it or something. You got food poisoning, quit crying about it."

"Perhaps you need some form of comfort, Dean?"

Silence filled the car so palpably that Sam thought he might have tasted the awkwardness of the moment.

Dean was flustered, fighting his natural instinct of shouting or making a snarky comment. His wording had to be more careful these days; Castiel didn't always recognize the layers to what he was saying and conversations ended up with the both of them confused and frustrated.

It took Cas looking into the back seat for him to finally speak. He leaned forward and said, "I, uh, I think-oof. Head rush." Laying back down he closed his eyes and sighed, "It's okay, Cas, I can handle it."

Eyes squinting slightly in thought, Castiel pondered Dean before asking Sam how long until they reached their next stop.

"Uh, I don't really know. There's no case right now. Whenever we hit the next town, I guess." Sam snuck a peek at Castiel (as well as you can sneak around angels) to see him staring at his brother. He may not have been able to see the blue eyes, but he knew by the set of the jaw that they were going full force "creepy angel", enough that Dean could probably feel it. And in fact he was right.

Dean not only felt the gaze, he felt himself blush slightly under the scrutiny. Another time he may have stared right back and tried to mimic the force of Castiel's stare, but his rolling stomach and the heat didn't have him in the mood for games or complicated relationships. He let out another moan, though it had nothing to do with his stomach and everything to do with the thought of 'relationship'. There was no spoken label for what was going on there, but 'relationship' was probably the closest to it.

For about a couple weeks now he and Cas had been...whatever they were. The admission from his friend that he was "fond" of Dean had confused him at first. When realization dawned on him he felt like he was living Stephen Lynch's If I Were Gay. The thought was comical now but had been near terrifying at the time.

Just as he had started to form words of gentle rejection, Dean looked Cas full in the face, taking in the full power of his eyes once again, and felt many things slide into place. He knew that this would hurt Castiel, but that he never wanted to be a source of pain to guy. He knew that he had been feeling closer and closer to Cas as time passed and was learning to care for him in a way that was different the friendship and brotherhood he had experienced before. Somehow this angel, this man, had found a way into the heart Dean had been sure had stopped functioning at that level long ago.

The shock was almost more than he could handle, making the decision to keep things private and slow an easy one. Cas didn't wanna push him over the edge and, honestly, Dean was curious about his own revelation.

There had been a conversation passing between the two front seat occupants during his ponderings about plans to stop soon, but he didn't take notice of it until his opinion was asked.

"What?" Opening his eyes Dean saw that Cas had miraculously turned back around during his discussion with Sam.

"Do you think you'll be eating by tonight?" his brother asked again.

"I can try, I guess. But if I get sick, I'm doin' it all over you. Fair warning."

Sam laughed, "Well, look, we're less than an hour from some town called Ashton. We'll get a room for you to, uh, recover in." His mouth twitched at the corners.

Dean sat up figuring it wouldn't hurt to try and get his equilibrium back if he was going to be eating in a of couple hours.

"We should make it two," unexpectedly broke the silence.

"Huh?" The response came from the brothers who were both looking at Castiel confused, the younger even more so. 'He can't be doing what I think he's doing...can he?' thought Dean. No, Cas wouldn't be, well, forward enough to ask for a room alone with him.

After clearing his throat and aiming his gaze out the window Cas repeated, "Perhaps we should make it two rooms." He paused, as if waiting for a reaction, before continuing. "Dean isn't well and, Sam, you seem increasingly annoyed by his complaints. It would be easier for you both to relax, perhaps, if you stayed in separate rooms." It was barely there, and hidden well, but Dean knew that Cas felt embarrassed. Only thing that mattered was whether or not Sam could sense it, too.

"Ha, I don't know Cas. Dean may not get better if he doesn't have someone to cry and complain to about it."

"Hey now, I don't cry. I just...shut up, Sam." To which Sam started laughing even harder at his brother's expense. "If you're so annoyed maybe you should get another room, bitch."

Dean had to admit he was impressed by the lack of emotion the angel let pass as he said, "If you are concerned for Dean's health, Sam, it would be easy for me to keep an eye on him." He quit being impressed when he continued with, "And it also gives your brother someone to complain to."

Although amused, confusion was clearly written all over the younger Winchester's face, but he agreed to the idea. Cas' proposal seemed a little out of the blue. But whatever, a night with a room to himself could be nice, get back a bit of privacy and dignity usually lost when you're constantly in close quarters with someone.

Caught up in his thoughts of peace and quiet he missed the exchange of quick glances and small smiles that started between his brother and the angel, which only became more frequent as the car turned off the highway and drew closer to the unknown Ashton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite sure how I feel about this chapter... Opinions?


	3. No Fault But My Own

Sitting in the historical section of a public library, Sam Winchester was po8ring over local legends. Anderson, Indiana's Mounds State Park definitely had a haunting, that was certain. What was doing the haunting was a little less certain. According to the few legends he could find, spirits of a long gone tribe of Native Americans called Pukwudgies haunted the land in the form of blue dwarves that could control animals and the souls of those they had killed. Well, blue dwarf ghosts would be an interesting change of pace. Sketchy eye witness reports were really all he had to go on, but something was leaving animal carcasses around and people had gone missing right under family's nose.

Sam sighed and tossed the old newspaper aside. After rubbing hfis eyes for the umpteenth time in the last half hour he checked his watch to see that it was 9:30pm. Not as late as he thought, but getting there. Just as he started to wonder about maybe grabbing some material and heading back to the room at the Economy Inn, he heard a flutter of wings. Letting out another sigh Sam turned to see Castiel at his left.f

"Hello, Sam," the angel greeted him.

"Hey, Cas," Sam said, standing to face him. "What's up?"

"Your brother wishes for me to convey a message."

Quirking an eyebrow Sam stared, puzzled. "You're delivering a message? Isn't that a little, uh, I don't know, below you capabilities?"

Cas tilted his head in the way that was becoming cliché. "I don't understand. Dean wished you to be told things; I am able to do this. It is one of my capabilities." Sam rubbed his forehead and started to respond, but Castiel continued, "Plus, you haven't been answering our phone."

Sam's eyebrows practically disappeared behind his bangs as he dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell. Having set it on silent because of the library, it hadn't gone off at all. After a quickly glance, though, he was irritated. "Well, there are only two missed calls. Couldn't have been too urgent, I've been here for hours."

"Yes," said Castiel, a hint of irritation passing over his usually detached features, "and your brother is so known for his patience." Sam was too shocked at the response to come up with one of his own, so the angel spoke again. "Dean wanted to know if you've found anything of use, when you'll be back, and if you will be bringing food."

Fighting annoyance Sam filled him in on the research front and his thoughts about heading back soon. "And I guess I could stop and grab some burgers or something on my, uh, on my...way. Cas, where's your tie?"

Sam was so use to Castiel always looking the same that he didn't notice until that moment how different the angel's appearance was. Not only was the tie missing but his collar was the slightest bit disheveled. Taking in his whole appearance Sam also realized that he wasn't standing in his usual stiff posture either. A new, subtle looseness had been added to his joints. Combined with the snappy retort earlier and...Sam had nothing.

Cas looked at Sam with apprehension written all over his features. "Oh, I hadn't realized it was gone."

Grinning a little Sam asked, "You didn't realize it was missing? Did you get undressed or something today? Dean didn't do something did he?" With that Cas' eyes practically bugged out of his head.

"No, Dean did nothing. I mean- He did- I- Well...I should get back. I will repeat to Dean what you've told me." And suddenly he was gone.

Sam played the conversation over in his mind as he got fast food and made his way to the motel. His thoughts became pretty circular after a while. He would consider what Castiel had been like when they first met him, and then the changes he had gone through. He knew that Dean saw Cas as a project. He knew that Cas and his brother had formed a kind of friendship that Dean was beginning to rely on.

'Whatever's going on,' thought Sam, 'I'll leave it between them. If Dean wants to humanize Cas, he can let his mind get boggled over the outcome.'

And this was the attitude Sam kept on the subject. He noticed that Castiel's tie remained missing after that day but put it from his mind.

It was a few days later, after the supernatural baddie in Anderson had been ganked, that Sam discovered something interesting. Having slept in a little later than the other two, Sam was still getting everything back in his nap sack while his companions were around the corner getting food. Digging around in his brother's bag for something he needed to borrow he came across a small, wadded up ball of fabric. There, near the top of Dean's bag, was the supposedly lost tie.

Pulling out his hand as if it had been burned, Sam zipped the bag back up and went back to packing his own things. He was reminded of the old saying that some mysteries are meant to stay mysteries. He also decided that he would make a habit of letting Dean know exactly how long he planned on being gone from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda lame I know...these scenes have been vague but I'm trying to come up with an actual Destiel scene


	4. Fool In The Rain

Yet another visit to Bobby's. Not that Castiel was complaining, which everyone seemed to always think he was. Apparently mentioning something meant that you were in disagreement with it. This made no sense to him, but if it avoided confusing conversations he could try to think before speaking.

Walking around Bobby's never ending junk yard, Castiel contemplated many things. His mind never stopped turning, analyzing, critiquing, learning, fighting to understand. Understand the events unfolding around him and his companions. For millennia he had watched people and tried to understand their complex ways, and yet it was his time down among them (brief compared to his long existence) that had enlightened him most and confused him further. That was his first lesson in humanity; contradiction. Everything here contradicted something else, especially the people. And yet...

And there was the definition of "and yet", the epitome of "contradiction" standing his back to Castiel. Right now he was doing something rather normal, if Castiel understood the definition of normal. But car washing seemed to be something a normal person would do. Though, perhaps most people did so without the worship Dean always showed "his baby". This was another example of something Castiel understood but only to a point. The technology of automobiles was truly extraordinary, and this car meant much to the Winchester brothers, but speaking to a car would always be unfathomable to him.

A bucket of sudsy water lay on the ground and the oldest Winchester was humming along to a song playing in the car while walking around it and spreading water with a sponge. Castiel wasn't sure how he knew to not walk forward and announce himself. He just knew that Dean seemed rather content right now, and something told him that an interruption would end this rare moment of calm. The dark shadows and worry lines that usually clouded his face were gone, replaced by a simply calm demeanor. In the time he had known this man, Castiel had never seen him so content and relaxed. Watching him run the sponge along the front of the Impala and the reinforcement of calm cross his face as he did so made the angel think of the way Catholics stroked their rosaries in moments of stress.

As the song playing in the old Chevy changed, the atmosphere of the moment changed with it. The music was very up-beat and happy and Dean seemed to be happy to hear the song. In fact when the lyrics started up a huge smile graced his features and he sang along.

Well there's a light in your eye that keeps shining  
Like a star that can't wait for the night  
I hate to think I've been blinded baby  
Why can't I see you tonight?

It was only a slight movement, but Dean's hips and head started to sway and rock in rhythm with the music as he sang along. The sway become even more slightly pronounced as the sponge was moved along the side of the car door and wiped the handle.

And the warmth of your smile starts a-burnin'  
And the thrill of your touch gives me fright  
And I'm shaking so much, really yearning  
Why don't you show up, make it all right?  
Yeah, it's all right.

A wistful shadow passed over Dean's face for a fraction of a second, as if with a passing train of thought. Still, Castiel felt himself start to crack the smallest of smiles at the scene. His insides felt...light? It was an odd sensation that he couldn't quite place.

And if you promised you'd love so completely  
and you said you would always be true  
You swore that you would never leave me, baby:  
What ever happened to you?

And you thought it was only in movies  
As you wish all your dreams would come true  
It ain't the first time believe me, baby  
I'm standin here feeling blue  
Yeah I'm blue

Castiel was close to laughing at the way Dean puckered his lips for the stretched out "blue". He stopped dancing and washing as he sang it, only to lean over to the bucket of water when the next verse began.

Now I will stand in the rain on the corner  
I'll watch the people go shuffling downtown  
Another ten minutes no longer  
And then I'm turning around

At the line, Dean did a small spin, and nearly dropped the sponge at the sight of Castiel standing between two cars a couple yards away, fighting to compose his features. Being caught watching hadn't crossed his mind, and he knew Dean would be embarrassed, which meant getting angry. And angry meant snapping and sullenness.

Sure enough the man started to clam up and gather his features up angrily. He started to open his mouth as whistle blew in the song but stopped. Castiel was still waiting for the explosion with a small amount of dread. He was greatly surprised then when Dean smiled slightly.

"Still enjoy being a creeper I see. The watchin' people thing is kind of creepy, Cass." Castiel could only stare with widened eyes as a response. Dean laughed and motioned for Castiel to come closer. "Promise not to do it again and I'll let it go," he said with fake severity as a grin and small blush formed on his face. "In fact, take off that trench coat and help me, and we can call it even."

Castiel just nodded and wondered where this strange mood had come from, though of course he was not at all complaining. Dean usually held out on him when he was irritated with him. Not to mention his pop culture references doubled just out of spite. After carefully setting his trench coat on the nearest car along with his jacket, he rolled up his sleeves and turned back to Dean.

"Geesh, take long enough. Alright, there's another sponge in the bucket. You take the other side." Castiel nodded and followed his instructions, marveling in the odd texture of the sponge. He did his best to follow Dean's example as the other man finished with the side he had been washing. There was no more dancing and he didn't appear quite as relaxed as before, but Dean sang the rest of the song softly to himself. Even if it lacked the gusto of before, Castiel was happy to have not stopped him enjoying the song.

Now my body is starting to quiver  
And the palms of my hands getting wet  
I've got no reason to doubt you baby,  
It's all a terrible mess

Castiel started to notice Dean glancing at him as he wiped down the back of the car. Reaching the back himself he looked up to see Dean avert his eyes back down to the car.

I'll run in the rain till I'm breathless  
When I'm breathless I'll run till I drop, hey  
The thoughts of a fool's kind of careless  
I'm just a fool waiting on the wrong block, oh yeah  
Light of the love that I found...

The final line repeated over and over. Dean's singing had reduced to a whisper as it ended, and Castiel was considering the song's lyrics. "Light of the love that I found," it seemed very fitting for him. Love was another contradiction. It strengthened and weakened, and yet all human's seemed to desire it. He knew that he, too, had begun to understand it first-hand. He sighed at the complexity of it all. His intense focus left him unaware of the fact that he had stopped wiping the sponge and that the song was over. Most importantly he didn't notice Dean tossing his own sponge in the bucket and walking over to stand beside him.

"Penny for your thoughts," was whispered close to his ear, and he thought he may have actually jumped at the surprise of it. Dean let out a throaty chuckle, "Now we're even."

Castiel's mind being what it was, thoughts were flying. There were a million thoughts he could have voiced, questions he could have asked. Could have, that is, if he speaking were possible. All he was able to do was turn and stare at the man who was standing so close, Castiel could see the freckles barely present across his nose. Back and forth, he couldn't keep his eyes one a single part of Dean's face; from the freckles, to the flushed cheeks, to the chapped lips, and the deep, shining eyes. The brothers always remarked on Castiel's intense stare, but he thought that Dean should be see his own intense gaze sometime.

"Dude," whispered Dean, his breath brushing over Castiel's face and smelling of Bud and pie filling, "quit thinking and kiss me already." If not for the smug smile that accompanied Dean's order, Cass would have been happy to oblige. Sure he liked Dean in a good mood like this, but that arrogance always annoyed him and ruined the moment.

His attitude showed in his face enough to tip off Dean, who sighed and placed a hand on Castiel's jaw. The angel felt himself lean into the touch, and softened again. Dean must have taken this as forgiveness because he leaned forward enough to rest his forehead on Castiel's. The hand on his jaw gave away the thrum of his pulse, but Castiel could feel the way Dean's breathing had quickened. He also felt the man's breath hitch in his throat when Castiel tilted his head in enough to press their lips together. The catch was, he tilted in enough to, but didn't. His mouth was right there, the distance from Dean's almost imperceptible. Still wet and suds covered, a hand pressed into Dean's side right above his hip as Castiel stepped forward, removing the space between them.

His hands, his mouth, his breath, he used it all. Castiel wanted Dean to realize that while he may not be as experienced in these matters, he wasn't going to be treated like a moron. If there was one thing he could beat Dean at, it was self-denial, and so he knew he would achieve this small triumph. Dean would instigate this kiss, not Castiel. Maybe then he would quit with all the teasing. Because Castiel knew he wasn't easy, and he thought just the right amount, thank you very much.

Dean seemed to be caught in a train of thought himself. The hand on Castiel's jaw moved back slightly to almost the back of his head and the other hand came to the opposite side's shoulder. Fixing his eyes on Castiel, he whispered just loud enough for it to be audible, "How long were you watching?" The movement of his lips caused them to barely brush the other set in front of them.

A shy smile crept on Castiel's face as he answer, "The whole song."

"It figures"

"Why?"

"It made me think of you, made me hope you'd come looking for me." It was Castiel's turn for his breath to hitch. Lines floated through his slightly fogged mind, but the one that repeated, just as it had in the song, was the final lyric. Light of the love that I found. "You know," interrupted his reverie, "And I'm shaking so much, really yearning. Why don't you show up, make it all right?"

With a reverence he had once saved for scripture, Castiel recited, "And the warmth of your smile starts burning, and the thrill of your touch gives me fright."

Taking a sharp breath and starting as if to continue, he was cut off by a groan from Dean. "Quoting Zeppelin is cheating," was the last thing he growled out before finally eliminating the last centimeter of space between them and pulling Castiel's lips to his.

If "dancing Dean" had been a change, this man kissing him confused and pleased Castiel even more. So many of Dean's kisses felt like Castiel was his breath, they were so full of need and fervor and set Castiel into an equally needing state. This kiss, however, was...languid? Describing it was hard when Dean was kissing in a way he hadn't known existed. It was slow and deliberate, forceful but tender. Just as Dean's tongue made him shiver, Castiel came up with the word. It was sensual, with a touch of deep emotion. Dean was using this kiss to say something, and while Castiel didn't have the dictionary down pat yet, he got the point.

"Dean." Castiel pulled back and the man looked confused, his eyes big and darker than usual. "Maybe we should sto-"

"Aw come one, Cass. There's no way you have a good excuses for stopping. You're just as on bored as me, I know it." Dean smiled, but there was only a hint of the usual smugness. Most of it had been replaced by an obvious pleading.

Castiel waited for Dean to finish before continuing, "Maybe we should stop...for now." Dean looked somehow even more surprised. "Your car needs to be rinsed off. And this is not an ideal place."

Now Dean stared in another way. "You know, Cass," he said while pulling himself back a fraction, "you just managed to mix angel logic and human want into one argument. I think we're finally reaching you."

Castiel simply smiled, gave Dean's shirt a quick squeeze before letting go, and walked over to the water bucket with his previously forgotten sponge. Privately he thought he might have to pay attention to Dean's music more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this one was long enough, I really pushed myself to keep it going. I wanted to finally do a kiss, and I wanted Dean having fun washing the Impala. In my original plan, Dean doesn't know he was caught...but when I was writing, he kept wanting to spin around. And who am I to stop him? Well I hope it's likable because it was fun to write. Review, let me know if I need to keep going or to burn my laptop ^_^
> 
> Oh, and Fool in the Rain is a great song, you should youtube it.


	5. Since I've Been Lovin' You

A nasty spirit had been poofed and it was time to celebrate another successful hunt. Unfortunately, celebrating this time around meant bandages, pain killers, and cheap beer in the latest motel room. Sam had gotten a good sized gash on his side that would take a while to heal and Cas had been hit pretty hard on the head. Trying to keep from moving, Sam was currently propped up in bed and fighting back the heaviness in his eye lids. Dean was checking the small wound on the side of Cas' head, and while he declared it not in need of stitches he also decided there was a possibility of a concussion. The verdict was that Castiel shouldn't sleep for a while.

Of course, as soon as this was decided, Castiel realized just how tired he was, physically and mentally. Turns out, being thrown around by the ghost of an old woman hurts the same as any other ghost, and watching Sam land on a big piece of scrap metal scared him just as much as Dean these days. Groaning, Cas leaned over against Dean and received a small pat on the knee.

"I know, man. I'll help you stay awake. Just gotta make it a few hours, then you can get some rest. I promise," Dean told him. "Anything you wanna do? Movie maybe?"

"Keep the TV on low and your hands to yourselves."

Dean shot a fake glare to the bed his brother was starting to doze in. He opened his mouth, retort ready, but was cut off by Castiel's hand shooting out and covering it. "Of course, Sam, get your rest and heal." At the incredulous look on Dean's face he whispered, "You want him to complain? Please, Dean. No bickering tonight. We all need rest and my head is in much pain."

All traces of antagonism had disappeared from Dean's face. He deflated slightly and removed the hand from Castiel's knee to replace it across his back in a one-armed hug. "Yeah, alright, save your breath, Sam. Cas, why don' you find something to watch?" After giving the shoulder he held a quick squeeze Dean kicked off his boots and tossed his jacket onto a nearby chair.

Cas made a quick scan of the few channels available. Dean held back a chuckle at how normal it was, relishing in the small smile Cas made when he found the History channel. Of course, he couldn't let his brother or the angel know he didn't mind and let out some low grumbles about "nerd tv". They were promptly ignored. Castiel was leaning back against the bed's headboard absorbed in the TV program and Sam was sleeping with his mouth open on the other side of the room.

The older Winchester leaned back next to the token angel and asked for an explanation of the special they were watching. Cas was still explaining five minutes later, but all Dean had taken from the lecture was that Cas knew more than whoever had created the show. He couldn't complain though; it'd given him the chance to snuggle closer to Cas and enjoy the smell that was just so uniquely Cas: a muskiness that was all male, and yet fresh and clean. Although he'd never admit to it, that smell kinda drove him crazy sometimes.

Suddenly Dean realized that besides the TV and Sam's light snoring there was silence. Lifting his head off a warm shoulder he looked up at the head attached to it to see blue eyes full of mirth. "I am boring you." As usual, a statement, not a question.

"Nah, I mean..." a raised eyebrow stopped him. "Maybe a little. I'm just tired is all, crazy hunt and all that."

Castiel reached one arm around Dean and placed the other hand on his cheek. "Dean, I can keep myself awake. You can sleep if you wish; I know you are in need of it." Dean would have shaken his head if a pair of lips hadn't pressed against his forehead.

The man sighed. "Nah, I'm fine, Cas. Really, this is great. You, me, nerd TV." Both of them smirked. As they sat back and leaned into each other again Dean added, "If I even look like I'm fallin' asleep, you wake me up." Cas simply "hm"ed in response.

Of course, half an hour later, as the program ended, Dean's light snores began. Unsurprised, Castiel's only reaction was a small smile and turning the volume up a couple notches.

Funnily enough, next in the channel's late night line-up was an examination of the son of Nostradamus to decide if he had his father's "gift" of prediction. Something about him illustrating his predictions of Armageddon. Personally, Castiel figured he'd had his share of Armageddon in reality; he didn't need to watch an hour of ridiculous speculation and circular arguments about it in his down time. With a sigh he turned off the television, knowing his chances of finding anything remotely interesting were slim.

Biting back a yawn, Cas stretched slightly, careful to not wake Dean, and shifted himself to look down at the man sleeping on his shoulder. 'I'm not here to perch on your shoulder' ran through his mind and he let out a small chuckle. Much had changed since that time, though he couldn't pin point when his complete irritation with Dean had changed from a bad thing to something of amusement. Because, let's be clear, Dean still irritated him regularly.

With his legs stretched out and crossed and his arms crossed over his chest, Dean had a look as close to peaceful as Castiel ever saw on his face. Cas sat there and simply stared at his lover's sleeping form. The temptation to just nestle down into Dean's warmth and sleep was strong. His eye lids were heavy, this mind was getting foggy, and the motel bed was surprisingly comfortable. But, knowing how angry Dean would be to find he had been unable to keep himself awake, let alone Cas, he fought the tiredness off.

It wasn't long before the tired angel's mind began to wander idly. Somewhere along the line, the thought that this was his life now gave him pause. True, he appreciated the people he had for companions, appreciated the mutual affection, and even appreciated the comfortable pattern of repetition that hunts provided. This was a family like he had never known in heaven. It just happened that this was the first time he had stopped to actually ponder his new lot in life. It could almost be said, his entirely new life. Something triggered in his mind, something he had read... Ah, now he remembered...

"In that book which is my memory...

On the first page

That is the chapter when

I first met you

Appear the words...

Here begins a new life."

Dante, if he was correct. And let's face it, he usually is.

Lifting a hand up to Dean's face he traced the permanent worry lines under his eyes. Meeting Dean, pulling him out of hell, had truly been a mark of a new life for him, even if he hadn't been aware of it at the time. The charisma that rolled off the man in waves had been infectious, his snarky attitude indecipherable. Castiel had felt drawn to him long before the feelings became less...chaste. Or at least, before he realized it anyway.

Castiel was barely aware of his hand drifting down to Dean's left shoulder. Often times, when they were close like this, his hand found its way to the spot. The hand closed over the shoulder and his thumb trailed down past the flimsy material of Dean's t-shirt to graze back and forth across the skin lazily. Dean hummed slightly in his sleep, maneuvering himself more into Cas' side. The angel just sat there and smiled, letting Dean make himself comfortable.

Somehow, by some miracle, another two and a half hours passed and Castile managed to stay awake. His mind had gotten more and more groggy during his contemplation, but he had struggled through. Finally, he'd had enough. Sitting up he extricated himself from Dean, who had practically wound himself around Cas, and began to gently shake the man's shoulder. The loss of warmth combined with the shaking woke Dean up quickly. Blearing around, sleep clinging to his eyes, his sight finally landed on Cas.

"Oh, shit. How long have I been out?" he managed out roughly as he stretched a bit and let his arm drape over his bed fellow's shoulders.

Castiel stifled a yawn, "A few hours." The yawn won out. "I stayed awake. I would like to sleep now." Dean didn't answer, just moved so he was sitting in front of Cas and pulled him forward to remove the seemingly ever present jacket and tie before throwing them on the same chair his own jacket hung from. Sliding to the end of the bed Dean shimmied off his jeans and let them fall wherever. As he turned to climb back up the bed he saw Cas had copied him and was pulling the covers back already.

As they curled together automatically, Cas noticed that Dean was skipping ahead. Usually he had to be asleep for a while before actually cuddling up. When first climbing into bed he would lie close to Cas and maybe throw an arm over him, but tonight he immediately drew the angel in and tangled their legs together. Castiel lifted his head and raised an eyebrow at the hunter, but the only response Dean offered was a shy smile and quick kiss on the cheek.

If someone had asked Castiel where the action came from he would have had an uncharacteristic lack of words. All he knew was that he felt like a balloon had inflated in his chest, and kissing Dean with a fervor he didn't know his exhausted body was capable of wasn't even a question. His hand wound up to the nape of Dean's neck as he moved to remove any space between them, smiling despite himself at the small gasp of surprise from Dean's lips as he claimed them. Once over his initial shock, Dean responded eagerly, teasing with his teeth and exploring with his tongue. Dean didn't know what brought this on, and really his mind was still too fogged from sleep to give it much thought. But hell if he was complaining.

It seemed as if the hunter could feel Castiel's hands everywhere. His neck, his hair, his face, his chest; as soon as he located a sensation it was gone and Cas had moved on. Dean wasn't sure when or how, but he ended up being pressed into the mattress by a Cas that was making his breath shorter and shorter. Suddenly, he felt Cas tighten above him and drew away with a questioning look just in time to see a big yawn stretch across the angel's face. After a huff of laughter Dean said, "And that would be the last drop of adrenaline."

Cas looked down at him perturbed. "I wouldn't say the last." But it was made ineffective by the next yawn he stifled. Dean smiled and kissed him, but it was a strictly closed-mouth, quick and sweet kiss.

"Besides," chuckled Dean, "wouldn't wanna take advantage of ya in your state of mind." He rolled Cas off gently, mainly able because the angel let him, and pressed another kiss to his forehead. Comfortable sleeping exactly like this, Dean just burrowed down into the bedding and expected Cas to do the same. Cas, however, turned over and burrowed back into Dean.

This shouldn't have bothered him, and normally it wouldn't have. But, he couldn't shake a feeling of, well, loss. He was hoping what he was about to do, Cas would be too tired to remember in the morning

"Hey," he whispered hesitantly," Cas?"

"Hmm?"

He took a deep breath before saying, "Do ya think, maybe, you could...turn back around?" Castiel shifted enough so that he could see Dean and gave him a puzzled look. "I just, I don't know." All he got was a raised eye brow. "I just...it would be...nice..." he trailed off lamely. Luckily his angel took pity on him. Or perhaps he was just too tired to care. Either way he turned over and tangled himself up in Dean before dropping his head onto the man's chest and passing out.

All Dean could do was smile and breathe in his favorite smell before drifting off himself.

~SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ (Dean's Dream While He Slept Earlier) ~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~ SPN~

It's a wide lake, spacious and beautiful. Exactly the kind of lake you think of on a hot summer's day while stuck in the middle of a city. With clean, teal-green water, gentle lapping waves, and the sun set high enough in the sky to warm you straight through, the picturesque view was perfect. Then again, the human mind tends to gloss over the gritty details.

All Dean knew was that he was happy here. Laying here with on this dock Cas, their legs hanging over the end, pants rolled up, jackets and shirts discarded in a pile behind them; their only focus was the heat from the beating sun. Sitting side-by-side, neither made any movement to reach for the other or break the silence. Both just simply laid there wearing matching content faces.

After what could have been eons, Dean, eyes closed and head turned, asked, "So, are you actually here or am I dreaming of you?"

Even though his eyes were still closed, he could hear the smile in the Cas' voice when he answered, "Which do you think it is, Dean?"

After a moment of silence, Dean answered, "Well, that smart-ass question sounds more like me, so I'm gonna guess you're as much a dream as the rest of this." A hint of a frown touched his face as he went on, "Which is good, I think. I've been thinking about showing you this place. The real place. I'm sure even my dreams don't do it justice."

"Where is this?" asked Cas. "You've dreamt of it before. I was actually here then."

"It's in Lawrence. Or, close to it," he sighed. "Dad brought me here on a couple of his days off. Before-. When he still owned the garage." Another silence passed before Dean added, "Anyways, I think you'll like it." Opening his eyes he found Castiel already watching him, eyes squinting at the brightness of the sun overhead. Somehow his eyes still managed to stick out, even when only half opened. "Alright, enough of the heavy."

Dean sat up and looked out at the lake of his early memory, taking a deep breath. Suddenly he was standing and down to his boxers. He smiled down at Castiel and proclaimed, "Time for fun," before jumping off the dock. When his head popped out of the water again he found Cas still on the dock, sitting there watching him with the ghost of a smile. "Come on, get in," Dean laughed, "It's my dream, humor me."

Rolling his eyes, Cas mimicked Dean nonetheless and the two swam for what could have been hours. They did all the things normal people do when they swim. Dean dunked Cas, splashed him, tried to pull his leg under the water. In other words, all the things that real Cas would have kicked his ass for in reality. Being Dean's dream, however, Cas just dunked Dean back and cheated during a swimming race.

For the first time in a while, Dean felt liberated. Tackling Cas into deeper water and not letting go of his waist, he was able to laugh and smile openly without worrying if it was wrong or if he wasn't allowed to be this happy and peaceful. Here he could just be.

Eventually the couple climbed back onto the dock, slumping into a mess of intertwined limbs shaking from laughter. Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath, sighing when Cas' hand came to rest on his face. Once both their hearts had returned to a normal rhythm, he sighed again and pulled Cas even closer to him, whispering, "I could fall asleep like this."

"You are asleep Dean."

"Oh, yeah. Huh." Dean's brow crinkled at the reminder. Shaking his head he leaned over to lean his forehead against Cas'.

Cas shook Dean slightly. "Dean," he whispered.

"What, Cas?" But Cas only repeated his name, shaking him slightly harder. "What?" asked Dean again, eyes still closed.

"Dean!" the man's eyes flew open to see Cas' staring straight into him with those intense blue eyes. Cas whispered, "I need you to wake up now, Dean."

When Dean's eyes flew open for real he couldn't understand why he was dry and stiff...and sad. When things flooded back to him and Cas' pleads for rest registered, he decided that yes, he would let Cas rest. Because they had a long drive tomorrow. It was time Cas saw something. It was time Dean had a break.

It was time they were allowed to just be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what's the verdict? I'm interested in the opinions in the switching of POV between Castiel and Dean. I liked writing it that way, but if it's too confusing I won't use the technique in the future.
> 
> The dream wasn't in the original plan. I was at my boyfriend's in the middle of the night and had a fit of insomnia. So there you go; my own take on the lake in The Rapture.

**Author's Note:**

> Basically this was me retaliating against all the people who are determined to make Dean into something else. Just because it's Destiel doesn't mean that Dean has to lose all masculinity.


End file.
